


Unworthy

by Neurofancier



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Cuckolding, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Humiliation, Jealousy, M/M, Self-Hatred, Sloppy Seconds, Slut Shaming, Sort Of, Spanking, not a lot of it though, the slut is richard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 15:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurofancier/pseuds/Neurofancier
Summary: To think that Richard has fallen prey to his lustful desires when Jared has been denying his own for so long...When Jared catches Richard having sex with Ben, he has no choice but to teach him a lesson.





	Unworthy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beefmaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beefmaster/gifts).



> Betaed by anactoriatalksback, beefmaster and stylusmaleficarum because this bad boy would not behave. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Richard and Ben are sleeping together.

Jared stands, petrified, at the entrance of the board room. Ben is still dressed from the waist up, hips rhythmically thrusting forward. Ben’s obscuring his view of Richard. Jared can only catch glimpses of him: white-knuckled hands, grasping at the edges of the table as he bends over it; a bare thigh, a flash of pale skin against the rich brown of the mahogany. It’s enough, though. Enough for Jared to know that ‘sleeping together’ is not, in fact, the best way to describe what he is seeing.

What they are doing–what Richard is allowing Ben to do to him–is _fucking_.

When Richard had granted Jared the immense privilege of being Pied Piper’s COO, Jared had naively thought that it would be the last he’d ever see of Ben. He had been wrong. A mere year later, Ben had returned to their lives. It had started out so innocently. A congratulatory tweet, when Richard was featured on the cover of Wired. Small-talk at networking events. An apology. And then, eventually, an offer to strike an alliance between their companies. 

Jared hadn’t trusted Ben. Of course he hadn’t. Bu he had let Richard’s reassurances sway him.

“I won’t let him fool me again,” Richard had promised.

A meeting had been arranged at Pied Piper’s executive board room. It was the same room where Richard, like a modern day George W. Ashburn, had once given a speech to an NSA agent about privacy and user rights. It was the same room where Richard and Jared had celebrated their victory over Ariel’s spurious lawsuit with cider. It was the room where, together, they had planned the strategy that had ultimately led to Laurie Bream’s demise. 

It’s the room where they’ve made countless decisions that have helped shape this new phase of Pied Piper’s development. A place of immense emotional value to Jared–perhaps as much as the Hacker Hostel’s garage, by now.

That Richard would violate the sanctity of such a hallowed space by doing this–by allowing Ben to have his wicked way with him here of all places–

Jared’s grip on the door handle tightens until its metallic edges dig into his skin. 

To think that Richard has fallen prey to his lustful desires when Jared has been denying himself this very thing for so long...

“How dare you,” he says, indignant.

Ben and Richard startle. He’s surprised they even heard him, lost as they are to their debauchery. Jared pays Ben no mind, all his attention focused on his Captain as Richard pushes the charlatan off him.

“Jared, it’s, oh shit, we...” Richard stammers as he turns around.

 

Richard’s Oxford shirt is half undone, his khakis tangled around his ankles. He is hard, still, Jared notices, on the periphery of his vision. Richard tugs at his pants, trying to yank them and his boxers up to cover himself. His face is blotchy, an unflattering shade of red. He can’t seem to meet Jared’s eyes.

He is capable of shame, then. That's reassuring.

Ben–that vile Lothario–leaves the board room without a word, closing the door behind him. How unsurprising, that he would abandon Richard like this to the consequences of their act. It only adds to Jared's disappointment, that Richard would choose to be desecrated by someone so eager to betray him a second time.

 

“How could you?” Jared asks him, trembling with barely contained fury.

"It’s. I," Richard croaks, "It's not what it looks like?"

"Is it not, Richard?" Jared asks.

Jared keeps his tone controlled, coldly professional, but Richard flinches as if he had struck him. Jared crosses the space between them in two long strides. It leaves Richard trapped between the conference table and him. Richard visibly gulps, throat bobbing. He squirms under his gaze like an insect being toyed with by a capricious child.

"Do you know what it looked like to me, Richard?" He will not lose his temper over this. He will not give Richard the pleasure of knowing how his acts have affected him.

"N-no?" Richard says.

"It looked," Jared grabs Richard's prominent chin, forces him to face him, "like you were allowing yourself to be despoiled by a man unworthy of your attentions. It looks like you were jeopardising the future of Pied Piper by choosing to start a... liaison," he spits the word, "with a common agitator who would happily celebrate our downfall."

"I-I didn't..." Richard begins.

"Do not lie to me, Richard Hendricks!" Jared catches Richard’s expression and realises he has raised his voice. He takes a deep breath and arranges his own features into a pleasant smile. "Am I to believe these," he thumbs at one of the red marks blemishing Richard's throat, "were not made by his lips, then?"

Before Richard has the chance to reply–before he can pile falsehood on top of more falsehood–Jared kisses him there. He tongues at the bruise, imagines he's sucking the snake's venom out of Richard's body. 

Richard freezes at first. Then he groans. He jolts into motion, wraps his arms around Jared’s neck, trying to hold him close.

But Jared will not allow this. Not now. He grabs him by the wrists, locks his fingers around them.

"Did I give your permission to touch me, Richard?" he calmly asks him.

Richard swallows. "N-no."

"Do you think," Jared squeezes, feels the shape of the bones under the delicate skin, "that you should be given that license, after what you've done?"

Richard's face turns a deeper shade of crimson. "No. No. Fuck, Jared, I'm... I shouldn't have..."

"No," Jared agrees. He releases his arms. "You should not have. And thus, you shall keep your hands behind your back unless I grant you permission to touch me. Have I made myself clear?"

Richard nods. Still facing Jared, he crosses his wrists behind the small of his back. He looks up at Jared, eager, needy for his approval.

If only Richard had been this committed to rectitude when he made the choice of sharing himself with that libertine.

"Good," Jared says, despite everything, because he is not unkind, and because he believes in the value of reinforcing good behavior. 

Jared undoes the rest of the buttons of Richard's Oxford. That scoundrel didn’t even have the decency to fully strip him. As if Richard’s physique was not made to be treasured and admired. As if he was unaware of what a precious a gift he had squandered. Did he not know how precious Richard is? How unworthy of Richard he was? 

There are more marks on his breastbone, staining Richard's once pure skin. He chases them all with his lips, bites at them, creates new ones to mask what never should have taken place.

Richard is panting, shirt hanging open as his chest rises and falls with every breath. His pants are still unzipped, barely staying in place. His erection strains against the fabric of his navy blue boxers. Jared meets Richard's wandering eyes with his own firm stare. With one sharp tug, he pulls Richard’s trousers and underwear down.

Richard's erection has not flagged as all this took place. If anything, Jared reflects, as he thinks back of the brief glimpse of it he had gotten when he walked in on them, he seems to have gotten harder.

"Is this the work of that viper?" Jared questions as he takes him in his hand. 

"I... No? Yes?" Richard says. "I don't know. I don't know what's the right answer, Jared."

"Is this for _him_?" Jared barks as he squeezes him.

Richard's eyes roll back. "No. No," he gasps. "It's yours. It's for you."

"Oh?" Jared arches an eyebrow, skeptical, as he begins to stroke him. "If it is for me, why is it that I saw that lustful toad touching you?" He swipes his thumb over the tip of him, watches Richard tremble and moan under his touch. "Why did I witness him bending you over that table?" Richard turns his face away in embarrassment. "I asked you a question, Richard."

"I am sorry," Richard says. "I'm so sorry, I... I don't know why I did it, I didn't want to."

"Did he force you?" Jared asks, not unsympathetically.

"No," Richard admits, "No, he didn't force me."

"So you wanted it," Jared sentences.

Richard ducks his head, chin almost touching his chest. "I am so sorry."

Even as he apologizes, Richard’s hips keep rocking forward into Jared’s grip, little hiccups of half-contained movements. He's trying to restrain himself, then, and failing. As he failed to resist that leper.

“It’s bad enough that you allowed him to touch you here...” Jared strokes him one last time before releasing him. Richard curses. “But to also allow him to defile you!”

“I didn’t–I–” Richard gasps in surprise as Jared kicks his legs open, as far apart as the trousers around his ankles will allow. “Oh. Oh fuck…”

“Do not dare to deny the truth, Richard Hendricks,” Jared says. “Not when I watched with my very eyes as you spread your legs like a cheap harlot for him. Not when I can still feel _this_.”

Jared pushes two fingers inside him. Richard moans, a broken “oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He’s stretched inside, wet and open, accepting his fingers almost hungrily. But then, Jared thinks with a grimace of distaste, there was something bigger inside him mere minutes ago. Jared jabs his digits in and out, as if wanting to erase the sense-memory of it from Richard’s body and replace it with this.

“Was this what you were seeking?” Jared curls his fingers just so. Richard throws his head back, mouth falling open. “Were you so desperate for it that you would have allowed anyone to do this to you? Even him?”

Richard shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that!”

“Was his phallus not inside of you minutes ago?” Jared shouts.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just, I wanted–I needed…” His eyes had fallen closed, but they fly open as he hears Jared unbuckle his belt, “Oh. Oh fuck. Are you going to…? Oh, fuck, will you _please_ , please…”

Jared unzips and unbuttons his khakis, pulls himself out with his left hand. Richard is watching him hungrily. Jared can’t hide the disappointment in his face.

“Turn around,” Jared demands, taking his fingers out. “Hands on the table”

Richard nods quickly. “I will–yes, of course, yes.”

Less than a second later he has turned his back to Jared. As he turned his back on the company. His white Oxford shirt is clinging to his sweaty skin. His bottom is put on display as he bends over, hands on the table as promised, legs spread once again. He’s even arching his back, almost as if presenting himself to Jared. To think that Richard would fail so at controlling his own impulses, to the point that he will lay with anyone, even with someone as unworthy of him as Jared himself… 

Disgraceful.

Doesn’t he know he’s better than this?

“To debase yourself like this,” Jared hisses. He guides himself to Richard’s entrance, still wet, still stretched from his digits and from that hustler’s _cock_. “How could you do this to yourself, Richard?”

He shoves in, before Richard can answer him. Richard keens and bends lower, until his chest is touching the polished wood of the conference table. 

“Please,” Richard moans. “Please, oh please, Jared, I need you…”

“To sully yourself with the touch of someone so beneath you,” Jared grips his hips hard enough to hurt and starts a punishing rhythm. “To cheapen yourself like that…”

“Oh, oh, oh,” Richard gasps with every thrust forward. “Jared, Jared, please…”

“You desperate thing. You fallen harlot. How could you lay with such a contemptible man?” Jared’s hipbones hit Richard’s backside as he ruts into him, over and over. He feels needy, greedy for him, for this man he cannot hope to ever earn. “How could you degrade yourself allowing a–a barbarian to take his pleasure from you?”

Richard grips at the edge of the table for purchase, nails scratching at the mahogany. Jared grabs him by the hair, forces his cheek onto the wooden surface.

“I asked you a question,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” Richard sobs. “I’m sorry, I wanted…”

“Is this what you wanted?” Jared hisses. “Is it?”

“Yes!” Tears are clinging to his eyelashes, his blue eyes bright. “Yes, yes, I wanted this, I wanted this, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…!”

 

Jared can feel a desperation pulling at his insides, an urge to fill him, to pollute him, to carve a space inside Richard’s body for himself, and oh, how dare he tarnish him with his ignoble desires? How dare he push them onto him? He reaches around, selfishly takes Richard in his fist. Like an unworthy thief, like a common criminal, he allows himself to steal more sounds of pleasure from his Captain’s throat. 

“Did you want him to fill you with his seed?” he says. “Did you want him to climax inside you?”

“You, I want you, please come inside me, yes please, yes, yes, yes,” Richard whimpers, pushing back against him in his haste to get him deeper.

“You–tart,” Jared groans against the back of Richard’s neck. “You slattern, would you allow me to dirty you with my passion? Would you?”

“Jared, Jared, will you please, will you?” Richard pants.

“You–you slut!” Jared smacks his bottom.

Richard lets out a long, broken moan. Wetness covers Jared’s fingers and Richard’s body clenches around him.

Jared tries to stave off his own climax, tries to pull out at least. Jared knows he shouldn’t, knows he’s unworthy of spilling in him. It’s too much, too good for him, but then his Captain urges him on, begging, “Yes, yes, please, inside me, come inside me,” and Jared is done for. He comes deep inside Richard, shuddering and gasping and lost.

Richard collapses and Jared with him, bracing his weight on his forearms to avoid crushing him. He tries to catch his breath, still shivering with aftershocks. Still reeling with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” Richard whispers under him, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Richard,” Jared says, pitying them both. “I am, too.”

The room is quiet, only the sound of Richard’s panting filling the silence. There are white stains on the table. Jared knows from experience they will leave a mark in the mahogany if he doesn’t do something to prevent it. He stands where he is, bowing over Richard’s back, their bodies two nested parentheses. He buries his nose in Richard’s hair and closes his eyes.


End file.
